


ring the alarm under the sound is drowning

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Mirror Sex, Semi-Public Sex, non-binary Lafayette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 19:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6436516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Okay, I'm ready,” Lafayette said from inside the dressing room. He twirled once, watching how the skirt framed his upper thighs. It was a deep maroon color, made of soft fabric that fell loosely, ending a few inches above his knees. Hamilton had picked it out, saying that it would suit him. He was right, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ring the alarm under the sound is drowning

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the song Taking Off by Clipping, and also I apologize to the French language because I apparently have no idea how it works. Lafayette is nonbinary in this story but uses he/him pronouns.
> 
> Also, happy birthday ian u piece of trash?? look what u did to me

“Okay, I'm ready,” Lafayette said from inside the dressing room. He twirled once, watching how the skirt framed his upper thighs. It was a deep maroon color, made of soft fabric that fell loosely, ending a few inches above his knees. Hamilton had picked it out, saying that it would suit him. He was right, of course.

It was the first time Lafayette had ever bought clothes like this before. He'd mentioned it to Hamilton weeks ago, but only in passing. Despite being openly nonbinary, Lafayette didn't own any feminine clothing, fearing that others wouldn't treat him the same if he did. Hamilton, however, encouraged and supported him completely. _Don't worry, Laf. I'll fight anyone who even looks at you the wrong way, just you wait,_ Lafayette remembers him saying.

They'd been walking by a department store when Hamilton pointed up at the display mannequin in the window. _That skirt would look amazing on you,_ he had said, and now here they were.

“Well?” called Hamilton, knocking on the door of the room, impatient as always. “Am I ever going to get to see?”

Lafayette rolled his eyes but opened the door anyway, self-consciously adjusting the plain white undershirt he was wearing. He'd been wearing it when he came in, and hadn't bothered changing out of it. Now, he almost regretted it, feeling ridiculous with his nice skirt and his mismatching top and his plain black sneakers.

“Hamilton?” Lafayette said nervously. He knew Hamilton wouldn't judge him, but it was a bit disquieting, especially with the way Hamilton was just standing there staring, his eyes wide like he was trying to drink in every detail he could.

The anxiety in Lafayette’s voice seemed to break Hamilton out of his trance. Hamilton looked up, their eyes finally meeting, and smiled, genuine and lopsided. “You look amazing,” he said.

“You think so?” asked Lafayette.

“Of course I do. You always look amazing. But,” he drifted off, wrapping his arms around Lafayette’s waist and pulling him close, “right now you look _spectacular. Stunning_ . _Gorgeous._ ”

“Oh, do I?”

“You do,” Hamilton agreed. He tilted his head up, his mouth pressed hot against Lafayette’s ear, and whispered, “You look good enough to eat.”

Lafayette shuddered, knowing that Hamilton would be able to feel it, pressed up against his body like this. “Hamilton…” he reprimanded halfheartedly, glancing around. “This is… indecorous.”

“Is it? Hadn't noticed,” Hamilton murmured, taking Lafayette’s earlobe gently between his teeth.

Lafayette just barely held back a moan. He rubbed himself against Hamilton’s hip, feeling the hardness growing underneath his skirt—a skirt he didn't even own. It felt unspeakably filthy. He wanted more.

“Look at you,” said Hamilton in response to Lafayette rutting against him. He pressed their groins together, hard, through layers of fabric, and they both groaned.

“Fuck,” Lafayette whimpered. He looked around again, silently thankful that there wasn't anyone else around, and dragged Hamilton into the dressing room by the collar of his jacket before slamming the dressing room door shut and locking it.

Hamilton grinned, breathless, and pressed Lafayette up against the wall opposite the mirror. When their lips finally met, the kiss was rough and desperate and messy, and Lafayette sighed into it. He pressed his hips forward, looking for friction, but Hamilton wasn't standing close enough, and he whined in frustration.

“Alexander…” he said softly.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the room, and Lafayette held his breath. Underneath the door of the room, he watched the heels of someone entering another dressing room further down.

“Think you can be quiet?” Hamilton whispered, sinking to his knees in one smooth motion. The muted sounds of the store’s music would cover some noise, but not much—certainly not the amount Lafayette usually made.

Hamilton ran his hands up Lafayette’s legs, pushing up the edges of the skirt, pressing his lips against the insides of his thighs as he did. His hair brushed against Lafayette’s cock, fleeting and light, not enough to satisfy but enough to frustrate, and Lafayette was practically panting.

“Stop teasing, s’il vous plaît, dear Alexander,” he said softly.

Hamilton took pity on him then, pulled down his underwear until it fell to his ankles, skirt still on. The fabric was draped over Hamilton’s head, and Lafayette pushed it forward, where it pooled around the base of his cock, so that he could rest a hand in Hamilton’s hair. Hamilton tongued lightly at the slit, taking just the head into his mouth and sucking gently. He only did this for a moment, though, moving down to press wet, sloppy kisses along Lafayette’s length, and, _good god,_ thought Lafayette, it was _obscene._

After what seemed like an eternity, Hamilton took Lafayette deep into his mouth, until Lafayette’s cock hit the back of his throat. Lafayette ran his hand through Hamilton’s hair and rubbed at his scalp with his fingertips, and Hamilton moaned in response, the vibrations causing Lafayette to gasp.

Hamilton pulled off completely, and Lafayette whined, hips automatically thrusting forward into empty air in search of friction.

“Laf,” Hamilton murmured, quiet enough so that the music would cover his words, “you have to keep quiet, remember? What would people think if they heard you?” He licked around the base of Lafayette’s cock. “Such a dirty slut, letting me take you right here in this store, in your nice skirt. God, look at you. You're absolutely ruined.”

Lafayette didn't make a sound, biting down on his bottom lip and trying to control his breathing, even with Hamilton’s tongue on him. He looked across the room, and realized that the mirror was there allowing him a perfect view of himself—Hamilton probably planned this. Lafayette looked absolutely  _devastated._ He saw his own wide, dark, half-lidded eyes, the layer of sweat across his arms and upper chest, and Hamilton, on his knees in front of him, lapping at his hard cock like it was the best taste in the world.

“There we are,” Hamilton said, and suddenly his mouth was on Lafayette’s cock, taking him to the hilt, wet and hot, and Lafayette couldn't stop himself. He thrusted a few times, careful not to be too rough, and came down Hamilton’s throat, shoving his the backs of his fingers into his mouth and biting down on the knuckles in order to stay quiet. Hamilton made sure to swallow every last drop.

Lafayette made his way over to the room’s bench and laid across it, still breathless and shaking. “Alexander,” he said. “Come here.”

Hamilton went over, straddling Lafayette’s waist, and ground down hard, his groin rubbing against the silky fabric of the skirt. “Oh, fuck,” he panted. He undid his zipper and pulled out his cock, not even bothering to undress any more than that. He rutted against Lafayette’s side for a minute and then stilled, letting out a soft, low groan, and came, narrowly avoiding staining the skirt and spilling onto Lafayette’s shirt instead.

Hamilton slumped over, resting in the space between Lafayette’s side and the wall. They laid there together for a moment, breathing heavily, until Lafayette rolled over to look at him.

“So,” said Lafayette, smiling. “You liked it.”

Hamilton laughed.

*

After a few minutes of catching their breath and then trying to make themselves presentable (which required Lafayette to take Hamilton’s jacket, to cover up the stains on his shirt), they went to check out.

“Did you find everything you needed today?” asked the cashier as she rang up the skirt.

“I believe we did,” said Hamilton with a smirk, giving a meaningful glance at Lafayette.

Lafayette blushed. “Yes,” he agreed. “Everything was perfect.”


End file.
